Author's Note: Thank you, Wickedgreene13! :O) I am really glad it met your hopes! :O) And rubberkidney, I DO hope to write an Eldarion story at some point! It isn't in my next two, lol, which are already MOSTLY written, and are a bit angsty like these two, but I can't wait to write it and have every intention of doing so! I had no idea all those things about Elves and that I was so far off, but thank you for enjoying the story despite all my clear misconceptions. Thanks for the heads up (even though fixing that would change everything...hahaha!)! Enjoy these last few chapters-we're coming down to the end here!

The midwife was present, but Éowyn had asked for him and Aragorn was not about to do anything but make her as easy as possible. Éowyn was clearly exhausted and in serious pain; the pain bothered him the most. He watched Faramir struggle to stay calm. The man had not left her side since he and Arwen had come, holding her hand, stroking her face, wiping the sweat from her forehead with a cool cloth. It was clear that Éowyn was trying desperately to make Faramir no more anxious than he already was, trying to smother her pain, but she was weak from the strain. She whimpered once, her back arched a little off the bed, the muscles in her neck tightening, and Arwen ran her fingers through the woman's hair.

"Shh…everything is going to be all right, Éowyn…you are all right."

Every tendon in Faramir's arms stood out, and Aragorn felt for him. Child-birth was not easy. Annî's birth had been different, because she had been breech there had been many things that could have happened that could have been fatal for both Éowyn and for her. Here, Aragorn was not expecting anything like that. When he had arrived, Kinna, the midwife, had told him that the baby was in the correct position to be birthed but that Éowyn's body was not quite ready yet. The child was ready, but Éowyn was not. Even though her water had broken, the opening had not been large enough for the babe to come, and so her body was straining with the effort to press him free, but he could not be born. The only trouble this created was that Éowyn was utterly exhausted and her pain was more intense than the last time.

He knew Thranduil and Erumar were in the next room, occupying Annî, Éomer, and their own minds. Éomer had come as soon as he had gotten the word, shaking off any sleep he might have been hoping for and cursing himself for the ale he had. He had taken his sister's hand, but had only stayed for a moment before encouraging Faramir and going out to stay with his niece. As an aside to Aragorn, he had mentioned that he had barely handled the birth of Elfwine, and he could not bear to be near his own sister in that much pain. That was his brother's position, and he was right to hold her.

Another contraction came while he had been thinking and Éowyn cried out this time, unable to hold back, crushing Faramir's fingers in her grip. Arwen laid a hand in her hair, bowed her head, trying to ease her if only a little as she held her other hand.

"Éowyn, you are doing well," Faramir whispered to her, pressing his lips against her hand as he held her shoulder with the other. Her head fell limply back against the pillow; she was so tired, her back felt as though someone was laying a hammer to her repeatedly. She moaned, her pulse rapid, her breathy gasps frightening him.

Aragorn laid a hand on Éowyn's knee to get Faramir's and Éowyn's attention. "The babe is nearly ready, Éowyn; he is almost crowning. You need to be ready, too; gather your strength."

Tears filled her eyes as Faramir kissed her hand. "I…am…weary…"

"You can do this, love," he said, bending over to kiss her head. "Just breathe…think about holding that baby in your arms, yes?" He slipped his arm beneath her neck, pressing his face to hers for a moment. "Think about that life inside you, that you and I have made together. Annî's brother or sister…she is so excited." She tried to laugh, but the breath caught in her throat. Arwen lifted her head and looked with concern at Aragorn.

"She will be fine," he said encouragingly.

"She is in pain," she whispered so low he could barely hear her. She had not wanted Faramir to hear what she had to say. "She is weak. Can she—"

"Yes," he nodded, and then he looked up. "Kinna, can you bring me what I asked you to prepare for me?"

"Of course, my Lord." Arwen watched as Kinna brought him a short-bladed knife and she very nearly panicked. She swallowed hard, trying rather desperately to trust him. She could not ask him what he was doing; it was quite clear he did not want Faramir to know.

"She will not even feel it," he whispered to her. "The child is too large for her." Éowyn's next contraction came and Faramir tried to encourage her through it. The pain was worse and when her head dropped back to Faramir's arm, she felt light-headed.

"Stay with me, Éowyn," he said to her as her eyes rolled. She tried to nod as Arwen covered her forehead with another cool cloth. It felt good against her face.

"Éowyn, it is time," Aragorn said, squeezing her knee again. "Hold her, Faramir. Kinna, stay here with me, please. Maybe three good pushes and he will be joining us."

"Oh…" Éowyn whispered, and she held their hands tight, "I will try."

With her first push the baby crowned and Aragorn could not keep the smile off his face as he looked up at Kinna. "We can nearly see his eyes, milady!" she cried with joy. Éowyn was breathing hard, Faramir's arms around her as she clutched his arm with both of her hands, holding on tightly. Arwen left her hand now in Éowyn's hair, whispering words of comfort; Éowyn did not know what she was saying as she had lapsed into Elvish, but listening to her speak was beautiful. It distracted her for half-a-moment and then there was nothing but the pain seizing her lower body, her back.

"Push, Éowyn…push," Aragorn encouraged her, and she felt Faramir's cheek press against her forehead. She cried out, struggling to gather her strength, tears on her face. "Éowyn…he is so beautiful…one more push. Just one more…" She was shaking now in her husband's arms, afraid she might collapse; she could hardly breathe.

"Breathe, Éowyn," he whispered to her. Arwen reached over and set her hand in the center of Éowyn's chest, and she felt the tightening begin to loosen a bit, she could breathe more easily. Relief flooded her and the panic left, and she felt the contraction build within her along with awful pain.

There were soft exclamations from both Aragorn and Kinna, and Aragorn grinned, looking over into Faramir's eyes, tears on his face. "He is here, Faramir…you have a boy, a son."

"Éowyn, we have a son!" he cried, kissing her face, her forehead, her tears away. She tried to laugh at him again, but she was so exhausted that if he had not been holding her head it would have been falling over the back of the pillow again. Arwen laid a hand on her shoulder, crying softly herself at their joy, and watching the face of their son as Aragorn handed him up to Kinna.

It was some minutes before the child was wiped clean and wrapped gently before she laid him in Faramir's arms. Aragorn remained at Éowyn's lower body to help clean her up carefully, then wait for the afterbirth so he could stitch the cut he had made. Faramir stared down into his little one's face and brought his arm to Éowyn's chest so she could see him.

"Look…my love, look what we have created together…"

Arwen choked back tears and sat back to watch the two of them as Éowyn brought a shaking hand to lay along her son's face. "Oh…Folengel…your son…"

"Our son," he said, kissing her and then kissing his little head; the child appeared blonde at the moment. Their little one opened his eyes, slowly blinking, and looked at them; both of them broke down into tears.

"Take him out to them, to Annî," she whispered, her head lolling back against his arm again. She could barely keep her eyes open now. No matter how much she wanted to stare at that little face, it was nearly impossible.

"I do not want to leave you," he told her, and Arwen laid her hand on his arm.

"I will stay with her," she said through her tears, but her eyes were on the baby.

"Touch him, Tiriel…please," Éowyn struggled to whisper. Arwen held back a sob, a lump in her throat, and took her hand again, brushing trembling fingers against the baby's brow. She could barely speak as Faramir smiled.

"Ilúvatar," she murmured, closing her eyes, "bless this little one into your care. What a beautiful ending to such a perfectly planned few days…Father, you are good."

"There now," Éowyn breathed, her eyes fluttering, "he has been properly blessed." She sighed, her face tightening with pain and her weakness. "Faramir, I…I cannot…"

"Rest now, Éowyn," he told her. "Arwen will be right here; I will be back before you even notice I am gone." He stood and turned, and Aragorn met him, laying his hand gently on his shoulder.

"Folengel…what a beautiful name. Congratulations, Faramir."

"Thank you," he said, staring down into the little face, "for taking care of Éowyn again."

"I am glad you were here this time with her. It made her a little easier to have you encourage her, to have you beside her."

Faramir paled a little. "That was…the hardest thing I have ever had to do."

Aragorn nodded. "But you survived, friend."

"She…she is going to be all right?"

"Éowyn will be weak for a little while, and sore. Let her rest; we will be right here with her." Faramir nodded and then slipped from the room.

Aragorn remained near Éowyn's legs until he could be sure he had stitched the cut as deftly as possible while Kinna held her very still. Outside the room, it was easy to hear the cries of joy and Annî's clear happiness that she had a brother. Then, when he and Kinna had finally cleaned her, he made his way to take Faramir's place at Éowyn's side, reaching out to lay a hand on her forehead.

Éowyn's eyes fluttered and she barely cracked them to acknowledge his hand on her face. "You did so well, Éowyn," Aragorn whispered to her. "You were so very brave."

"F-Faramir—"

"He is outside with Annî who is screaming with delight," he told her gently. "You need to rest. The babe will be back and be hungry soon…you need rest before that."

Her hand tightened a bit in Arwen's. "Wake m-me?"

"Of course, Éowyn," Arwen replied, rubbing her thumb against her hand. "Sleep, dearest."

Éowyn was asleep almost immediately. When she was, Aragorn lifted his eyes to Arwen's face, but found she would not look at him. There was nothing to say, not here anyway, and the only thing he could do was reach over and take her hand within his own and caress her with his mind. The squeeze between his hand and their connection was like a squeeze to her heart. For the moment, holding her this way was enough.

The King's House was quiet as Aragorn shoved open the door, leading Arwen inside by the hand. It was exactly as she had left it; their crowns on the table. Neither one of them moved to pick them up as Arwen closed the door behind her. Instead, Aragorn continued to lead her slowly towards their bedroom, at the moment he wanted nothing but sleep. The moment of fleeting passion they had shared before going to the Houses had long passed, and there was no way he had the energy to love her as she deserved. And yet, there were other things than love-making on his mind.

"Would you like something to eat?" she asked him as they entered their bedchamber.

"I am famished," Aragorn said softly, "but I am too exhausted to care if I put anything in my mouth." He sighed. "In fact, I might be too exhausted to chew at the moment."

"To bed then," she replied, and he nodded, unbuttoning the top of his tunic and then yanking it off over his head and dragging leggings out of the drawer to put on. A complete lack of coordination on his part led to a fruitless search for a tunic for sleeping and so he gave it up as a bad job. When he turned, he saw her standing there, looking at the dresser just as he had been, but she was stiff. He closed his eyes, took half-a-step forward and waited.

Come to me…

She did, turning and moving into his arms; she had removed her dress, but never got past that, standing curled against him in her shift. She was trembling as he enfolded her in his arms, holding her warmly as she pressed her face to his neck. She was not yet crying, though that was inevitable.

"It was so beautiful…" she whispered to him and her voice was strained. "He was so beautiful…why can I not simply let it go at that? Why does my heart need to—" Her voice choked off and she did break into sobs then, and he held her more tightly. "Why do I need to break? Can I not just love him? Can I not just be happy for them? At least pretend it did not hurt so much! Why did Faramir have to see?"

He pressed his lips to the top of her head. "It is impossible to pretend, Arwen," he said gently. "It has only been six months and our wounds are still fresh."

"I…I…If I cannot have him," she whispered painfully, "I wish I could forget." He could feel that she hated herself for the words she spoke out loud. As full of grief as she was, they still had a son, if only for a short time, and she hated herself for trying to pretend they had not. "Ilúvatar forgive me," she said brokenly, "that is so wrong…I accepted this! I told IlúvatarI had accepted it!"

"No," he said, rocking her gently in his arms, "sometimes I try to forget, too." He thought about the moment Faramir had asked if he wanted to hold Folengel this morning…he simply could not do it. He could not get his hands to function and he apologized to Faramir ten times, trying desperately not to hurt his feelings. But Faramir understood; they were friends. So they had left when Éowyn was yet sleeping, though she would be woken soon to feed a hungry babe when she desperately needed rest. They must keep watch over her; it had been a difficult labor. They would return in a few hours to make sure she was still doing well, but at the moment she was in good hands with Kinna.

"He asked…he asked you to—"

"I could not," he said, shaking his head. "No, it was too much already."

"How…how will we ever get past this?"

"Tomorrow…" he whispered, "we shall get past it tomorrow."

"Not today?" she said, and her voice was pleading. He shook his head gently.

"No, not right now. Tomorrow will be better, when we will see them again, when we have had more time to settle Folengel in our hearts." He found she was not breathing for a moment and he rubbed her back. "Breathe, beloved, breathe."

She gasped and gave another sob. "Ilúvatar, why? Why, why, why? I feel like my heart has been torn from my chest! I miscarried him!" The word made her sick, and her head swam in her grief. "He is gone! I cannot want him back!" she cried, thinking of her words to Enguina not weeks ago, that down that path lay despair. "It is wrong! Wrong! Ilúvatar, rescue me…please!" An agonized whimper escaped her lips and Aragorn's heart clenched tight. "See me! Take it away…take it away; I beg you!"

Her words made his heart ache even more, and he desperately asked Ilúvatar himself, Why did their child have to be a boy, a son? If it had only been another girl…another girl and we may not have been feeling this as keenly as we are right now… Their grief was great in this moment. Even while they rejoiced with Faramir and Éowyn in the blessing of another child, they wanted one of their own so terribly that the pain was smothering.

"We…we will have children," Aragorn whispered fiercely into her hair, her pain filling him as well as his own. "Ilúvatar will give us this desire; I know he will. He is good, Arwen; we know he is good. He will not abandon us! We will have children. We will."

Eventually, the exhaustion of the last few days—they had not caught five hours of sleep in nearly two days, the pain of grief—found their knees weakening and they turned to their bed. Laying down together, he held her close again, covering both of them, but most especially her trembling form, with a blanket. He prayed, he prayed with all his might that the peace of Ilúvatar might rest over them both, might be their shelter in this storm that kept raging against them.

Supper found Aragorn and Arwen in slightly better spirits. Sleep had pushed the agony back and they were determined to rise above their suffering. They had wanted to sleep through, but found when they woke that they were famished, so they came out to take some bread, cheese, and fruit together. They had no expectation of company and were not about to waste time cooking for themselves when they intended for sleep to find them again shortly after they would check on Éowyn again. Arwen had placed the plate on the table and found that Aragorn was leaning upon it, his arms crossed over his chest and his chin nodding downward towards them. She smiled and laid her hands against his face, touching her forehead to his.

"Hello there, sleepy-head," she whispered.

"I…am awake." Laughing softly, she laid her hands against his arms and kissed his brow.

"Time for some meager supper; sit down before you fall down."

"You…are very wise," he replied with a sigh. They took their seats at the table and he reached across it and simply held her hand. The touch was comforting, soothing, and though part of her wanted to forget the grief-stricken moments of earlier, she needed it; as always, she needed him, and he knew just what to do to make her feel his presence. He had said she was wise…if that was true then they both were.

A knock on the door distracted them and they met each other's eyes, hoping it had nothing to do with Éowyn and that she was all right. Aragorn sighed, rubbing his eyes and then growled a bit more grumpily than intended, "I am not getting out of this chair." She chewed her piece of bread, a little smile appearing on her face at his 'rebellious' behavior. Instead, he called out, lifting his head, "Come in and have dinner with us if it is your wish."

They both had to gape in pleasant surprise as the door opened and Legolas walked inside, Enguina's hand wrapped in his own as he led her behind him. "Well, well!" he laughed. "I should have known we would be the only two here after such a celebration; and we made such an effort!"

Arwen and Aragorn both got out of their chairs to exchange hugs with the couple. Enguina held Arwen extra-long, laying her head on her shoulder, and Legolas shared the same information with Aragorn in a simple nod and a soft smile, and all was right with the world. Peace of mind was brought to them both.

"Thank you," Enguina whispered in her ear, tears in her eyes. "Thank you for everything."

"Yes," Legolas said as Aragorn clasped his shoulder. "Thank you."

"Come and sit, both of you," the man replied. "There is not much but what we have, we have to share." The four of them took seats at the table; Legolas and Enguina side by side, Aragorn on the end, and Arwen across from them.

"I am afraid," Arwen said, sighing, "that we did not have the energy to cook. I feel terrible that you came all the way over here for this meal and—"

"Please, we are happy to share it with you," Enguina said, passing a plate to Legolas. "We are a bit hungry—"

"If we had remembered to lay some food out for ourselves," Legolas interjected, "we may not have seen you until the morning. But hunger drove us here."

Enguina set her forehead on her hand, blushing, but Legolas was entirely unashamed as Aragorn smiled and shook his head. "Yes, the human body does require sustenance. That was what we were finding ourselves, though for very different reasons."

"Shall we speculate about the others?" asked Enguina, trying to turn the conversation from her embarrassment. "Gimli is probably sleeping off all the ale."

"Well, we can tell you some of it," Aragorn replied, "though we do not know where everyone is at the moment. Some will have to be speculation as you said."

"Well go on," Legolas said with a grin. "We know where the dwarf is anyway."

"The most important news," Aragorn continued, "is that Éowyn and Faramir are at the Houses of Healing. Their babe, a son, was born this morning, just after dawn."

Legolas gaped at him and Enguina laughed gaily. "Oh how wonderful!" she exclaimed. "Have they chosen a name for him yet?"

"Folengel," Arwen said with a little smile, thinking about his precious face. "A perfectly wonderful Rohirric name."

"In their language, it means Prince of Foals," Aragorn added, and Legolas nodded, smiling.

"It is perfect," he agreed.

"How is Éowyn?" Enguina asked.

"As soon as we have eaten, we are headed there to check in on her," Aragorn said. "That is if we can force our feet to stumble there when we are finished here."

"She was…very weak. The labor was strenuous, difficult," Arwen told them, and Enguina looked worried. "She was sleeping soundly when we left her with Faramir, Annî asleep in Éomer's lap in the other room. There had been so much excitement yesterday none of us could keep our eyes open."

"Oh, I missed it," Enguina sighed softly, "and she had invited me to come." Legolas reached over and slipped his hand into hers, holding it gently.

"She did?" asked Aragorn. "Well, she is probably glad you were quite busy with each other. Everyone but Gimli was there, so all of us received very little sleep. I assume that either your father is asleep or walking in the gardens—"

"Erumar is probably doing the same," added Arwen.

"—yes, as they were both watching Annî during the birth with Éomer. Gimli remained at the party with his kin; Éomer said they would not permit him to leave, and you two of course," Aragorn said with a smirk, "were celebrating your wedding night…and day."

"And a lovely celebration it was," Legolas said softly and though Enguina blushed, he squeezed her hand again.

"We did not expect you at all," Aragorn said. "We do apologize that we are not the best company right now. We…have had very little rest."

"Can you tell us of the rest of the party?"

"Did you stay and dance all night before the birth?" asked Enguina, leaning forward towards Arwen and laughing as she grabbed her hand.

Arwen laughed, too. "As much of it as we could."

"I am sorry we did not stay longer and dance more," Enguina sighed, "but there will be other opportunities and…well—"

"We wanted very much to be alone by that time," Legolas added seriously. "Not that we were not enjoying the celebration."

Aragorn grinned at him. "When we left the Houses this morning there were still men at the tables, feasting and toasting to you and singing your praises. Trust me when I say this, you have been sufficiently blessed by everyone in Minas Tirith. Blessings on you, on your marriage, on your children, on your union, on your horses, on the place you will live, on your—"

"Please, I think we comprehend, Aragorn," Legolas said, holding up a hand. "Thank you both, again, for everything you have done for us. We…could never be thankful enough—"

"No, we could not," added Enguina softly, looking at both of them. "Thank you."

"It was our pleasure."

"We love you both," Arwen said, "and we are so full of joy to see you happy."

"What are your plans for the next few days? Will you be traveling to Ithilien sooner or later?" Aragorn asked, biting off a piece of bread.

"To be honest," Legolas replied, "I sent a messenger to Imrahil sometime before I was taken and I had a message from him when I returned. Enguina and I are going to Belfalas for a little while, perhaps a month, and then returning to Ithilien."

"By way of Minas Tirith, I hope?" asked Arwen softly. "A month, when you have been here so long, is a very long time not to see you."

"Ithilien is not too far," Legolas said, but he could see that Enguina was going to feel the separation as keenly as Arwen. "But of course we shall stop on the way. Then to Ithilien to build our home. Perhaps by then, my father will be ready to leave Minas Tirith. I was hoping he might travel with us and leave for Eryn Lasgalen from there. And perhaps we might borrow Gimli."

"Ah the Sea," Aragorn said softly, and Enguina sighed. "You will love Dol Amroth, Enguina. You will be amazed at the beauty there. Arwen and I stayed there for a short time several years ago, and Imrahil is very welcoming. A good man."

"I am eager to see it with Legolas at my side," she replied. "Aragorn, I was going to ask you if we could go and see Éowyn with you tonight, but…would it be better to wait until tomorrow?"

"Yes," he answered. "She needs to rest, and you can see her just as well tomorrow as tonight." Then, he smiled. "If you are intending to leave for Dol Amroth shortly, perhaps we should roast the two of you tomorrow night at dinner, if you will allow us."

Legolas laughed. "And here, I thought you had both forgotten about that."

"No, no," said Arwen. "We really want to do it. Thranduil mentioned it before we left him today, and I think everyone is looking forward to it. Consider it a…wedding gift; something to start you out laughing at one another."

Enguina sighed and nodded. "Fine. Tomorrow night it is." She looked over at her husband's plate and rolled her eyes, pushing hers toward the center of the table. "Must I help you eat that?"

"Whatever do you mean by that, my dove?" he asked, mischief in his eyes.

"Well, I can see we are not returning to our home for several hours."

Arwen laughed. "We did not expect to see you at all, to be honest. We expected that we might not see you, at the very earliest, until tomorrow morning for breakfast."

Enguina looked at her. "Again, Arwen, we have to eat."

"Do you feel different, now that you are officially wed?" asked Aragorn, eyeing both of them.

"Feel different?" Legolas asked, raising an eyebrow. "I feel as though my life has only begun."

"I do feel very different," Enguina said to answer his question. "I feel like I have been reborn. I feel as though I have never understood what love really was…until now." She looked back to Aragorn and Arwen. "I…seriously knew nothing of love. I was so wrong about everything. I have never been gladder that Ilúvatar has been guiding my steps. I have been praising him every moment." She looked over at Legolas and her eyes were like burning torches. That was not, however, what made him drop the bread he was holding. Instead, it was what he read in her mind, what she shared with him in that moment, and when she dipped her chin, looking out at him from half-lidded, smoldering eyes, he gripped her hand and dropped the bread onto the table.

Legolas leaned over and kissed her forehead. "I think I…am finished with my supper, Guin."

"Are you?" she asked softly, a blush on her cheeks but her voice lowered.

"Definitely…and I think I am much desiring to be alone with you right now when there are people around," he said with a sigh. Arwen laughed at his boldness as Enguina's blush deepened, and Aragorn smiled, settling his arm over the back of Arwen's chair.

"Enjoy the rest of the evening, you two."

He drew Enguina to her feet. "We would love to chat longer—"

"Please, do not lie Legolas," Enguina whispered. "It does not become you."

"Will we see you for breakfast?" Arwen asked, leaning her chin on her hands and smiling as much as the other three.

Legolas leaned towards the table as he guided Enguina to the door with a hand on her back. "I think I would like to keep you guessing," he said, waggling his eyebrows. "On that very high note, Guin and I bid you good night. We love you both."

"We love you," Aragorn replied and as they crossed the threshold outside and the door closed behind them, they could hear the two of them begin laughing hilariously outside, Enguina chiding him for making a fool of them. Aragorn looked over at Arwen. "Do you remember the first time you looked at me that way?"

"No, but I remember the last time," she murmured sweetly, leaning over to kiss him gently.

"I was standing in the council chamber discussing the orcs fleeing across our lands from Mordor and if we should send a contingent to stop them when you suddenly appeared. You were wearing a blue gown that sparkled in the light, the one that flowed about your bare feet when you walked and covered your arms with silk, and I was unable to speak when I looked upon you—you looked just as one of the Valar in the drawings of your father's study. Your hair was down and lying across your back and chest and you wore a circlet of silver on your head and a sapphire around your neck that your father had given you."

"I do remember that now, when you speak of it. Five days after the wedding, yes?"

He nodded. "I remember that I forgot everything I was saying, and the only thing I could think about was going to you, touching you. I remember you telling the lords that you required my attention for an urgent matter and I felt a flash of worry until you took my hand and led me from the room." He looked confused for a moment. "I do not, however, remember the walk to the House."

"That, beloved," she whispered, leaning over to kiss his chin, "is because we never made it back to the House." He chuckled as he remembered. "I remember standing near the White Tree before the Tower pacing. I could not get you out of my head, and I did not even try to fight the desire I had for you that morning. I was struggling to decide if I should disturb you, if I had the right to do so, to interrupt, but I…wanted to be with you so…badly." She swallowed, remembering the moment as clearly as though it was happening before her. "I remember asking Ilúvatar what was right, and why in the world could we not have been two normal people, where we would not have the responsibilities we had. I…ached for your arms; so filled with desire that I did not know what else to do. So I…went to you. Perhaps it was wrong of me, but…I would never change it. I do not know what the Council thought, but…"

"They did not know any better. If they did know, they never said two words. That was…one of the only times we made love in the Tower, was it not?" He sighed and shoved his plate back gently. "I will not say I did not enjoy it; I remember it quite clearly. But I will say—"

"It was not enough time."

"No," he agreed. "It was not. It was…not the way I wanted to love you. There was nowhere to lay you down, and you were trembling before I even touched you; it was difficult for you, too. No…I remember the evening much better. It was long…and slow…and there was no chance anyone would find us." He sighed again, looking into her face. "How I wish I had the energy to love you that way, right now. To lay you down as we had intended last night…before life, even beautiful life, interfered."

The look they shared was more than a simple look as thoughts and feelings passed between them. They both sighed and she smiled at him. "It is time to see Éowyn, and then return here for sleep."

He nodded. "We will clean this up…later?"

"Yes," she said, and the two of them rose and he took her hand, bringing it to his lips.

"Perhaps, if one of us wakes the other in the middle of the night…"

She laughed. "Oh, wishful thinking, beloved."